


Color Coded

by Fearless_Fangirl



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Colorless World AU, M/M, Markiplier - Freeform, Other OCs included, Rebel!Jack, Rebel!Mark, Septiplier - Freeform, jacksepticeye - Freeform, might be sad?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 23:18:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6349726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fearless_Fangirl/pseuds/Fearless_Fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the 100 year anniversary for Gris, a new nation without color or creativity, and Jack is living his normal life without knowing anything about color, just the way it should be. Until one day, he runs into a rebel stranger with new colors and a different outlook on life from The Creators of the Colorful. Suddenly, Jack is whisked into a whole new world of colors, creativity, and romance.</p>
<p>But not everything is what it seems. There are things that nobody is telling Jack, things that could be the difference of life and death for everyone he now knows and loves.</p>
<p>Can he figure out what is really going on? Or is it too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wall

-General POV-

Greymoor was a city where dreams and color came to die, everybody knew this. 

Grimm Grey, as the citizens appropriately nicknamed it, was the capitol of Gris. Gris was the nation that was now devoid of all colors except for black, white, and grey. After the fall of America in 2047, everyone was struck with a horrid sense of hopelessness, the perfect opportunity for Calvin Gramm, the first dictator of Gris, to rise up and present this new supposed "utopia" to the people. Many people hated this idea, with good reason, but they were put to death before they could get a say on anything. With that, Gramm began to capture the current color of the nation with a machine he built. People still speculate about how he really did it, nobody can get a definitive answer. 

It seemed that all hope and color were lost.

But beneath the surface of Gris, there was a rebellion in the works. They were the few who managed to escape the watchful eyes of Gramm, the few who still believed that color could begin to restore this broken and bleak nation back to its former glory. They called themselves The Creators of the Colorful, and they were the last hope that this nation had if it ever wanted to be brought back into the light.

___________

-Jack-

Jack walked down the same road to and from work everyday and nothing like this ever happened. 

He stared at a brick wall, normally purely black but now there was an unavoidable brightness to it that a crowd of people, including Jack, simply couldn't ignore.

This year, 2147, was the 100th year anniversary of when Gris was born, a nation that was not held down by distractions such as color and creativity, but instead focused on the work of all the people who inhabited it. The idea of bright, vibrant colors was something long forgotten, so the stares of hatred that people were giving the wall were quite normal.

Jack, on the other hand, studied the wall with great interest. There was something about the way that the color glistened from the sunlight, the way that it could capture one's gaze and hold it for just enough time. He cocked his head sideways, pondering if this color had a name, an owner, a purpose perhaps. It seemed to call his name, call him forth, call him to reach out and take what was rightfully his.

Curiosity killed the cat, he thought as he reached his hand towards the gooey substance staining the brick wall. He could hear the murmurs from the people around him, shocked at the act of treason he was about to commit, and the sound of footsteps quickly approaching him. 

Just as his fingertips were going to make contact, his forearm was grabbed and violently pulled away from the wall, causing Jack to be thrown onto the ground. Startled, he met the gaze of his attacker only to find that it was a Greymoor police officer, staring down at him with utter distaste.

"Were you the one who did this? Huh?" The officer gruffly asked, making no attempt to help the man off the ground.

"I'm sorry?" Sputtered Jack in reply, his heart pounding in his chest. He just wanted to go home from work, he didn't need this on top of it!

"Were you the one that colored this wall?" He sneered, practically ready to take him to jail at this point, with the look he was giving Jack. "Because it sure seems like you were curious enough to come back to see the damaged you caused these innocent people!"

As Jack looked around at the people that were invested with his current situation and the colored wall, it seemed that none of them were damaged by this in any way. Jack would have pointed this out to the officer, but he would rather live to see another day.

"No, it wasn't me!" Jack protested. He had to think of an excuse quickly, he was pretty sure that this officer wouldn't buy the reason that he was just being curious. "I was going to try to wipe it off, I swear! Sir, I would never try to break the law! I love Gris dearly!"

The officer raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not buying his blatant lie. Jack could see that other officers and color cleaning specialist were beginning to file in to play crowd control. 

"Sir, We're going to have to place you under arre-" The first officer was cut off when a puff of smoke enveloped his face and knocked him out cold. As he fell to the ground, Jack caught a glance of the man that had taken out his attacker.

Although this man wasn't much taller or heavier then Jack, but he certainly stood out more. He wore a black hoodie, grey skinny jeans, black converse, and carried a bright white bag. Regardless of the normal bland clothing, something about the way he stood, the way he simply was, he stood out more then any other person Jack had ever seen. With his hood over his head, Jack still caught a glimpse at the mystery man's hair, another color that he had never seen before.

The man offered his hand to Jack because he hadn't moved from his place on the sidewalk. Jack was reluctant to take it but quickly realized that this man probably had to leave soon, considering he just knocked a man unconscious. An officer of the capitol, at that! 

Jack took his hand and was pulled up. Jack wiped his hand on his pants, trying to erase the clamminess that came from the mystery man. Jack began to back away from him slowly, fearing what would happen next, but this man removed his hood and looked down at Jack, stealing his breath in an instant.

There was no denying that this man was handsome, extremely handsome at that. Beautiful captivating eyes stared back at Jack, a sly grin forming on his face. His hair seemed very fluffy but was a color that Jack couldn't place. There was a small scar running along his right cheek and paint dripping from his chin and all around his face. Jack wasn't sure how he could accomplish such a thing and he didn't want to know.

The man eyed Jack and stepped towards him, closing the already small gap between them. He stared at Jack's face as if he knew Jack, obviously he didn't. 

"You look like somebody I knew," He whispered. "But they're long gone now. You do seem interesting though." 

Jack felt a shiver run through his spine, slowly beginning to step backwards, towards the police men who were still turned around and not paying any attention to this rebel standing before him.

The man quickly noticed this, narrowing his eyes and grabbing his wrist tightly. He yanked him away from the wall, the scene of the crime, and started him down the sidewalk. The way I always go home, Jack thought. 

The man released his wrist and put his hood up over his head. He looked back down at Jack and winked at him seductively. He hopped a chain fence that was lining the sidewalk and the local park, running off into the protection of the faded white trees. 

___________

Jack laid in bed, his eyes searching the grey ceiling for answers of any kind. He was so frazzled from today's events that he couldn't think straight. The thing that bothered him the most was the man he met at the wall. He was obviously a bad man, rebelling against the nation that he really loved so dearly. That was the one thing he didn't lie to the officer about. Still, the confidence that the mystery man carried with him, the brightness in his eyes, and the way that he just was, it was something that couldn't leave his mind. 

You seem interesting though, he had told him. As straightforward as he was being, Jack didn't understand why he said that or what he meant. Though there were many questions racing through his head, he knew that one thing was certain.

He had to meet this rebel again, even if it meant being labeled a rebel himself.


	2. A Crash Of Emotions

-Jack-

Jack walked the same streets on high alert. It was obvious to anyone nearby that even glanced at him that he was looking for something. He had lost count of how many times he had apologized for running into people on the street but he was focused on only two things. Making it to work and finding him.

As he looked up at the towering skyscrapers and pondered at why he was so interested in this man that had barely spoken to him. This man that was a rebel against the nation that he was born into, the nation that he and millions of others held so dearly. Jack was born and raised without color in Gris, without ever caring about the rebellion was doing. Why was it now that he noticed the things that he never cared about before? What flipped the switch in his mind?

"Watch out!" Somebody in the distance yelled. "Coming through! Excuse me, sorry, kind of running from the cops here!" Jack heard the voice racing towards him but he ignored it regardless. It most likely wasn't the mystery man in question, he wouldn't be so loud.

It was in that moment that irony crashed down upon Jack. Quite literally, at that.

Jack looked up for only a moment and was knocked onto the sidewalk with a yelp. His head was throbbing and his hands and knees were scrapped up from the concrete. 

"What the fuck, man?" Jack asked angrily. "Watch where you're going!" He did realize that he was also to blame for not watching where he was going but he put that aside the moment that the man who he had ran into looked back at him.

Those same sparkling eyes, that same grin from yesterday, now it was wider and much more jolly. The only thing that was different now was his change of clothes and the brightness of his hair. Like before, it was a color that Jack couldn't describe but the fact that it was more colorful then before.

"Oh hey, it's you again!" The man chirped happily. "Didn't get to introduce myself last time, that name's Mark." He pushed himself off the ground in an instant and held out his hand to help Jack up again.

The man now had a name, Mark. He seemed to glow like an angel under the rays of the white sun, for a moment all he could do was stare up at Mark in awe of how he towered over him, only radiating pure joy. Jack suddenly snapped out of his daze and took his hand. Mark pulled him up with ease, almost exactly like yesterday. 

"I would love to talk more but by the looks of it, we both have somewhere to be." Mark motioned at Jack's attire, his uniform for work was primped to perfection, minus the rips from his mighty tumble. It would have been just the way his manager wanted it to look, if only. By the sound of whistles, footsteps, and dogs barking madly, it seemed as if Mark had other places to be as well. 

Mark started to walk off but not before whispering something to Jack that made his cheeks blush madly and blood run cold.

"We should meet again. After all, you are pretty cute." Mark said to him, which left Jack to contemplate what had just happened with cuts and bruises on his arms that dripped blood onto the pavement. The officers rounded the corner, eyes widening as they saw Jack's arms and legs. They rushed over to him, investigating Jack and the scene around him to make sure there were no signs of a struggle.

"Sir, are you ok? Have you seen a rebel man with colored hair running through here, by any chance? Did he do this to you?" One officer questioned Jack, trying to snap him out of his giddy daze to get some kind of answers.

"I think he may have ran in that direction." Jack muttered, pointing in the opposite direction that they needed to go in. There was no way in hell that Jack was about to let this man, Mark, get caught by Grimm's idiotic police force.

The officers nodded, thanking him for his "help" as they headed completely off course in a frenzied pursuit, hell bent on arresting a rebel that they were now never going to find. He sighed, relishing in the moment that he shared with Mark, even if it was only a moment. Then Jack froze suddenly, he was feeling very nauseous now.

It all came crashing down on Jack. His mind caught up with his actions as he came to sudden realization that he, by definition, just committed an act of treason towards Gris. He just committed an act of treason against the nation that his father died to protect so long ago. He just committed an act of treason for a man that he barely knew.

Which led Jack back to the same question he was pondering before he ran into him. Why did he want to meet him so badly in the first place? Sure, he was attractive as hell but that's no excuse for executing a crime! The only questions that he could think of were the same questions as last night. Except for one new question that wiped the rest of them away

Was it the colors?

The vibrant colors that Mark had in his hair, the brick wall from yesterday, the curiosity of why they would ban all colors in the first place. Jack had never once thought about colors in a deep way, he was never really interested in them. So, again, why now?

Coming to another realization that he was still standing in the middle of a busy walkway with blood oozing from his arms, he decided that he should just call in sick and sit on the thought for a while.

_________

-Mark-

Mark could only snicker at the screaming he was probably receiving from his teammates as he confronted the adorable, unnamed, blushing boy on the sidewalk. When Mark saw him for the first time, a few weeks back before confronting him by the canvas, he instantly thought of all the other people that he had taken back to The Bucket with him during capital missions. So many lives that he changed with only the basics of color and creativity.

As Mark ran off from him and ducked into an alleyway, he burst out into uncontrollable laughter. He couldn't take it any longer and tapped twice on his earpiece to turn on the audio again. He really wanted to know what Penelope had been saying as he took a break from her constant hilarious nagging.

"-UP YOUR ASSHOLE IF YOU DON'T TURN YOUR MIC BACK ON, RIGHT NOW!" She screamed in his ear as soon moved his finger away from his ear. He wasn't even shocked at her words at this point, cussing was her first language. 

"Getting a little graphic, aren't we Penelope? Would you like to tell me the full context of that sentence? Or do you just want to stick something up my ass?" Mark said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He could almost hear the irritated face through the communication line at that moment.

"Shut up, you shit head. Did you get what you needed? Or did you loose it with that mighty fall you took with your blank boyfriend?" 

Mark had almost forgotten about the camera that she was watching him with, the one that was sewn into his clothing. Almost forgot, but not completely. He sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to live that stumble down.

"Of course I got it! I swear, you have no faith in me sometimes. I may be a little bitch but I'm a little bitch that gets the job done!" Mark proclaimed, waving around the file document they needed in front of the camera to show her.

"Well then get back here with it, you little bitch." She said. "Oh, Mark?"

"Hm?"

"You are going back for another capital mission in a few days, right?" She questioned, which was strange because she never seemed interested on when he was going again. 

"I think so, why?" He stopped, furrowing his eyebrows and wondering where she was going with this.

"Good, because you had better bring that guy you slammed into back to The Bucket. You owe him an apology, after all. And he looks like somebody that is missing something from his life, if you get what I mean." She said. Mark knew she was being serious. She almost had a gift for telling when people need something, either on a grand scale or an insignificant one.

"I hope I can too, Penelope." Mark said, a sly grin forming on his face.

This was going to be a good week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Colored Angel

-Jack-

Friday morning, it's exactly 9:57, and Jack was seated at the table for two in the back corner of his favorite donut shop called "Donut." Although there were many donut shops like this one, there was not Riley at all of those shops.

Long silky hair and small figure, she walked out from the break room while tying an apron around her waist. Despite her morning shift, she was always so nice to him. He was blinded by good customer service and he didn't care in the slightest.

Personally, he didn't like donuts that much. This place was only his favorite because of her. On the other hand, if he didn't order something and just stared at Riley for his spare ten minutes then Jack would probably get kicked out of Donut faster then he could apologize. He could spare a couple of dollars if it meant he got to see Riley every Friday morning. 

He waltzed up to the register, eager to chat with her. She was turned around, making a coffee for another customer, when he saw it. An stunning illustration of a bird and two hands were on the back of her neck. A recognizable grey were on the wings of the bird while the rest of the creature was colored. The wings of the bird were being grabbed by two hands, one for each wing. The hands had grey on the fingertips, as if the bland color was being drained into the bird. 

Jack huffed. Maybe there were a lot more people in this rebellion then he thought there were. 

She turned around with a large grin on her face, handing the coffee to a women in business clothing. Riley turned to look at Jack, twirling some of her hair in her fingers. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest and a goofy smile growing on his lips.

"Heya, Jack! The usual, I'm assuming?" Riley chirped out, as perky as ever. Jack nodded, he realized he should probably tell her that he could see the drawing on her neck.

"Oh, um, Riley?" Jack stuttered out, making her turn around in confusion. He not so subtly tapped the back of his neck, hoping that she would get the message. Her eyes widened as she quickly moved her hair back over her neck to hide it. She sighed, relieved that she wouldn't get caught for that.

She gave him his bag containing one glazed donut (it's the only kind there was) and handed him one hot chocolate. He blushed as he handed her the money, wishing that he didn't have a job to go to so that he could stay here a while longer. She winked as Jack as he turned to leave, nearly running into the door frame when he walked out the door.

He looked at the bag and saw something scribbled on it. He paused to get a closer look at the words.

"Thanks for not saying anything. Let the colors seep into your soul as you begin your journey. Signed, R"

He furrowed his brows, wondering what the hell she had just written. "Let the colors seep into your soul?" What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Though she may be cute, she seemed weird as hell.

Jack was willing to look past this.

He shrugged and started walking again. He thought back to her drawing, how the colors seemed to melt into each other, colliding as if they could live together in harmony. In the context of the image, that wasn't the case, as the bird was being held back from it's colorful potential.

Wait, what am I saying? Jack thought. I'm supposed to be a loyal citizen of Gris, how can I think like this?! Whatever, just let it go for now. Just go to work.

For Jack, it seemed like fate really did not want him to go to work. 

He plowed into two intimidating police officers, who were both glaring down at him. Jack smiled, trying to buy some sympathy from them. They pushed him into a nearby alley, one of the officers slammed him up against a wall. 

"You're Sean McLoughlin, aren't ya?" The first officer spat out, making Jack flinch at the use of his full name. 

"I go by Jack, but yes it's me. Why, sir, do you need to know?" Jack said, loosing confidence by the moment.

"Boy, we have been watching you all week now. You have been acting very suspicious lately." Started the second officer. "We need to ask you a few questions." He dangled a pair of handcuffs in his hand as an evil smile grew on his face.

"But I'm innocent!" Jack cried out. "Please don't take me away, I have a family to feed!" Another perfect lie, by none other then him. He was very bad at lying.

As if sent from the heavens itself, a splat of paint enveloped the face of the second officer, making both Jack and officer number one gape at him. Another splat landed on the first, making him release his grip on Jack. He pushed the officer on top of the other and backed up farther into the alleyway.

Jack looked up, trying to find the source of paint. It was none other then Mark, standing on the trademark giant donut of Donut, some kind of gun in hand.

Mark hopped onto a dumpster and onto the ground in front if Jack safely. He was nearly covered in paint at this point. He wore a mask that covered every part of his face except his eyes, which were protected by a pair of glasses. His all black suit was stained with blotches of many different colors, old and new. 

Mark quickly removed the mask to get a better look at Jack. He smiled at him, as if Jack was familiar to Mark now. 

"And so, we meet again. At least you aren't planted on the ground this time." Mark laughed, causing Jack's chest to go into overdrive.

"Why do you keep helping me?" Jack asked, the way he said it made it sound like he was rushing Mark. Jack hoped that he didn't get that impression.

___________

-Mark-

Mark snorted, he couldn't even believe that was a question. He could have answered this man, Sean, he thought he heard the officer call him, one million different ways. Instead he picked one and went with it.

"You needed help, simple as that. That's what I'm in Gris for, after all." Mark said.

"You're in Gris to cause panic, to cause chaos. Don't try to lie to me." Sean said suspiciously. Mark raised an eyebrow at him. How could he try to guess his mission when he was nothing but a blank?

No, he can't think of these people as blanks. They were simply people that got caught up in the wrong side of the war, that's all. Mark smiled, now determined to break this man. Break him into the colorful life.

"If I was here to cause a panic then I wouldn't have saved you just then. You clearly don't know what I really do, so why don't I show you?" Mark asked Sean.

Mark could see the panic and curiosity rise in his face. Sean glanced down at the blue paint that was beginning to pool around his white shoes. He studied it for a while, lost in thought. It seemed that he now had no intention of looking back up at Mark, so he decided to begin to make a break for it. He didn't know how long those officers would stay trapped anyway.

"Well, if you change your mind, you know where to fi-" Mark didn't get a chance to finish his sentence.

"Blue." Sean simply said, his eyes not breaking away from his feet. Mark's eyes widened and he could feel the biggest grin forming on his face. "Is that what this is called?" Sean tore his gaze away from the ground to look up at Mark. His grey eyes were now gleaming with a newfound pride.

Mark grabbed Sean's hand and nodded. This was probably going to be the best answer he was going to receive and he didn't care.

"Well then," Mark started. "Off to The Bucket we go!"


	4. A Long Walk, A Story, and An Annoyed Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH I FINALLY FINISHED IT THANK GOD. Thanks for all the people that commented, gave kudos, and are still reading this after I took for-fucking-ever to finish it. The kind words really helped me to finish this chapter! I hope you enjoy!

-Mark-

Mark made his way through the blank trees as if the path was painted out for him to see. He couldn't recall how many times he has walked down this beaten path. He had yet to let go of Sean's hand because he hadn't said anything about it. Mark assumed that it was fine with him.

"Let's take a break, we have been walking for a while." He said, turning to Sean and releasing his hand.

"With pleasure!" Sean exclaimed, planting himself on a nearby tree stump. Mark took a seat on the ground next to him, picking away at the pitch black grass blades.

He lost himself in thought. Mark wondered how Sean knew what the color blue was when he was never exposed to any other colors. Then again, he hasn't known Sean for that long so how would he know what he has or has not seen? Mark had always assumed that blanks like Sean knew nothing about colors until they were at The Bucket, the base for TCOTC. He never liked the acronym for their rebellion but it was much shorter to say.

"So," Sean said, breaking Mark out of his thoughts. "How much longer until we get to wherever we are heading?"

"It depends. Normally, I'm by myself so it only takes a few hours to get back. Since I'm with another, inexperienced, person, it may take around a day or so." Mark replied nonchalantly as he closed his eyes and leaned up against a tree.

Sean jolted upright, his eyes widening at the realization of how long this is really going to take. 

"A day?!"

"Or so, yes."

"Wait, back up. How can it only take three hours for you when with another person it takes a day? Are you flying through this path or something?" 

Mark sighed, opening his eyes and pushing himself up to begin to walk again. He motioned for Sean to follow him. 

"I'll explain while we walk. We're losing daylight, let's go." Mark said.

Sean scoffed, pushing himself off the tree stump to follow behind him. Mark could feel his irritation from a mile away. He hoped it wouldn't last for long, as they still had a long way to go. 

After walking for a few minutes, Mark finally broke the silence. "I wasn't flying through here, like you said but I do have a very fast mode of transportation." 

Sean raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?" 

Mark began to dig around in his large back pocket, rummaging around to find it. He pulled out his small, rectangular Color Hook. He flicked his wrist and saw Sean's amazement as it grew twice its size in Mark's hand. To anyone else, it would have looked like a grappling hook, but to the rebellion it was their own invention, the Color Hook. The only real difference was that whatever the hook hit, it became colorfied, which came in handy on a coloring mission. He held it by it's handle as Sean gazed at it. 

"What the fuck is that thing?" Sean asked, mouth agape.

"This is my Color Hook." Mark started, twirling it around his hand like a pencil for the thousandth time. "It's a device that allows one to hook onto any surface or object to get them closer to their destination faster then running. The only downside is that it can only carry one person, which leaves us to walk." Mark shrugged as he threw it up in air, watching as it shrunk down to pocket size. He put it back in his pocket and kept walking, leaving Sean in awe.

"Why are yo-." Sean started to question him again but was stopped. Mark was growing tired of all the questions being fired at him. 

"Enough with the questions, it's my turn to ask something," Mark began. "Sean, how did yo-." Karma hit Mark upside the head as Sean cut him off.

"Woah, woah, woah. You did not just call me Sean, did you?" He said, jogging up to look Mark in the eyes, making sure he heard right.

Needless to say, Mark was baffled by this. "Is that not your name? I heard the officer call you that so I assumed..." He stopped in the middle of his sentence, realizing that he shouldn't have assumed his name in the first place.

"The only thing that the officers know how to do is bully the people around them. They don't know shit about anybody and they just don't care. Call me Jack from now on." Jack said as he fell back behind Mark to let him lead the way. He had obviously hit a soft spot with his real name, Mark took note to not do that again.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed that." Mark mumbled. "But still, Jack, how did you know the color blue? Did somebody teach you?" He looked back at Jack, hoping for an answer. 

"Something like that." He whispered in reply. "Do you really want to know?"

Storytelling could pass the time, Mark thought. He nodded, figuring that it couldn't hurt.

"It was twenty years ago, I was six at the time." Jack started, launching into his story.

__________

-20 years ago, Jack-

Jack happily raced up the stairs, anxious to see his mom after school. He clutched his backpack as he reached the top step and peered into his mother's room. She had her back faced to the slightly opened door as she was finishing putting on clothes. She was still without a shirt, that's when Jack saw something that he had never seen before.

There was a series of lines, words, on the left lower part of her back in a color that Jack could not recognize. He tried to get a closer look, fell over due to his child clumsiness, and managed to face plant on the carpet of the room. 

His mom quickly put on a shirt and kneeled down to see if Jack was hurt. He simply giggled.

"I'm fine, mom!" He said as he pushed himself up, staring up at his mom with curiosity.

"You definitely have something on your mind, little man. What's wrong?" His mom asked.

"What were the lines on your back?"

His mom widened her eyes in shock, her mouth forming into a frown as she realized that her small secret was blown. 

"That, Sean, is called a tattoo. A tattoo is when ink is applied on skin to create a image or a phrase. It can come in many different colors but that isn't exactly allowed here so you have to promise me that you won't say anything, ok?"

He nodded vigorously. "I pinky promise!" He replied as he held out his tiny pinky finger to her. She chuckled as her pinky finger was wrapped around his, squeezing hard. 

"Mom, what color was it? I haven't seen it before." Jack questioned.

She sighed as she lifted up her shirt slightly, just enough to let him see the phrase "Are people born wicked? Or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?" inscribed on her back. It was in beautiful cursive, different shades of...something. 

"That's the color blue. Again, you cannot say this to anybody else, ok? Mom will get in trouble if you do."

Jack could only stare at this new color. He tilted his head, trying to make sense of why something so pretty had to be kept a mystery. Although, he hadn't said anything about their little secret to anybody else.

It was the last promise that he made with his mother.

___________

-Present day, Mark-

Mark listened to his story with increasing curiosity as they walked, the bright white leaves crunching under their feet and the air growing colder. He knew that they were close to The Bucket but he also knew that night was just around the corner. They needed to sleep after that hellish walk.

"It was the last promise I ever made with her." Jack said solemnly, looking at the ground to avoid the pitiful gaze from Mark. Mark put his hand on Jack's shoulder, trying to comfort him regardless if barely knowing him. He made a mental note that they needed to get to know each other better, later.

"I don't know what happened to her, but we can't mourn right now. We need to get as much sleep as possible to keep going." Mark said.

Jack merely groaned, most likely at the thought of more walking. He flopped face down onto the dirt, making Mark laugh for the first time in a few hours.

"The good news is that The Bucket isn't far from here. It will only take us an hour to get there if we sleep now." Mark pointed out, kicking Jack in the side lightly, making him mumble something into the dirt mound covering his face.

Jack lifted his head up, just enough to hear what he was saying. "That's still too much walking." Jack groaned, spitting dirt that had found its was into his mouth. 

Mark recoiled at his dirt spit, taking a seat far from it. "Never do that again, dude. That's just disgusting." 

Jack raised himself up some more, resting his head on his hand as he raised his eyebrows at Mark. "Says the one that reeks of what I can only assume to be paint and sweat. You aren't exactly the cleanest man alive right now."

Mark gasped sarcastically, covering his mouth with his hand. "Excuse me! I'll have you know that I was voted the cleanest man in the universe, four years running! You have no room to talk, dirt mound boy!"

"Dirt mound boy? I'll have you know that I'm the dirt mound MAN!" Jack yelled, collapsing into a fit of laugher as he fell back into the dirt. Mark, while laughing, studied this dirt covered "man." 

Every time that he had ever seen Jack, just walking on the sidewalk or leaving that donut shop, he had always been this quiet, well-dressed, working man. In other words, he blended in with every other blank there ever was. Suddenly, when one pulls a blank from their blank environment, they're bursting at the seams with life and excitement. It's quite a sight, in Mark's opinion.

Jack calmed down, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He faced Mark as he stretched out his arms and yawned. Mark snapped out of his thoughts, he found himself having to do that a lot lately.

"We should probably get some sleep, huh?" Jack asked as he looked up to the darkening sky. 

Mark joined him in looking at the sky, nodding in agreement. He stretched, sprawling out on the ground near where Jack laid. He opened one eye to catch Jack staring at him with gleaming grey eyes. 

That was the last thing Mark saw as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psst, hey, I have a tumblr account and since idk how to work things properly, I'll just copy the link below bc why not.
> 
> http://in-this-world-unknown.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks for reading and all that.
> 
> (Mad props for the people that got the reference, you know the one)


	5. Welcome to The Bucket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And once in a blue moon, Sam rises from the depths of Septiplier hell to FINALLY UPDATE THIS FIC JESUS CHRIST I AM LAZY. I just get terrible cases of writer's block after i finish one chapter and i have no exucse, I am so sorry. It's been a shitty day, it's 1:30 AM, and I should have been asleep hours ago. What was i doing? Writing, of course. If it's shit, let me know. If I made mistakes, let me know. I'll look at them tomorrow. Thanks and all that

-Mark-

Mark awoke to a sharp pain in his right side. He slowly opened his eyes to find Jack kicking him in that very side, what a coincidence! He looked up at the blank man, narrowing his eyes. He was half tempted to start growling at him but instead rolled over onto Jack's foot to stop him from kicking his side. 

"Just 5 more minutes, Dustin." Mark said instinctively, not fully registering who was at his side.

"Who the fuck is Dustin? Did you forget old Jack in one night?" Jack replied jokingly.

"You'll meet Dustin soon enough, and learn to hate him as well." Mark sat up, stretching his arms and wiping dirt off his back. He rubbed his pained side, wincing. "Jesus fuck, dude. How hard can you kick? My side really hurts."

"Well, I woke up, like, an hour before you so I didn't really have a choice."

Mark's eyes widened as he quickly looked at his watch. 12:42 PM, it read. He could feel his stomach knotting as he realized that he was two hours behind schedule.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck nuggets! We have to go now, we're so fucking late!" Mark exclaimed as he jumped up, grabbed Jack's hand (trying to stop himself from blushing but to no avail), and breaking out into a full sprint. He ignored Jack's yells of protest as he ran as fast as the wind could take him. 

He bobbed and weaved through the pure white forest, dragging Jack behind him, watching as the colors around him began to take on their normal form. To Jack, this probably seemed like a whole new world but to Mark, he was finally home.

He screeched to a halt as they approached a large grey boulder, the only thing in this forest that resembled that other world, making it very unlikely for guards to investigate it if they came out this far. He released Jack's hands, resting his hands on his knees to breathe. Jack slumped onto a rock, breathing heavily.

"What the absolute shit was that?" Jack gasped out. "You could have warned me first, you dick!" He gagged for a moment, putting a hand over his mouth in hopes that he didn't throw up. 

"That is what happens when I learn that I'm late." Mark said as he rose from his position. "I despise being late, but that's not the point. We're finally here!" He threw his hands up, praising the rock in front of them.

Jack raised an eyebrow at him, most likely full of questions and emotions. Mark turned to him and sighed, suddenly realizing how much this has been on Jack.

"I'm.... I'm sorry man, I've been rushing you from the beginning and it's not fair to you. Trust me, after we get in here, you can rest for the entire day. I swear it." Mark said.

Jack's face softened and he nodded at Mark. "So, where is it, exactly? All I see is a rock."

"That's the point, dude. It is just a rock, a rock that can be moved with just a swipe of a card!" Mark exclaimed, retrieving a small keycard from his back pocket, thanking his lucky ass stars that their one way in didn't get lost somewhere.

He moved some leaves to the side, revealing a scanner. He swiped his card and the rock began to move, shaking the ground they stood on. Mark watched as Jack's interest peaked from this giant boulder being moved across the forest floor like nothing. The boulder settled off to the side, showing a dark, damp cave within. Mark skipped inside like it was nothing, Jack following behind him timidly.

"So," Jack started, startled as he heard his own voice echoing off the walls of the cave. "Is this it or am I missing something here?"

"We have taken extreme precautions to make sure that we aren't found. We had thought about letting a bear live in here, but we had an..." Mark paused for a moment. "Incident... That idea was quickly vetoed after that." 

"Do I want to-"

"No, not really."

"Ok then..." 

They reached the end of the cave where Mark swiped his card in some secret rock off to the side, opening up another passage, a gust of wind greeting them from within. Mark nudged Jack in the direction of the opening, grinning at him. Jack entered timidly, peering inside but not necessarily looking around as Mark intended he would. He pushed Jack inside, somewhat forcefully, closing the passage behind them. He turned around, knowing exactly what would happen next.

It always starts at the feet.

It's almost as if the color from the ground that Jack stands on seeps up into him, swirling around his shoes as it rises slowly to fill in the rest of him. For the first time, Mark assumed even though he probably shouldn't assume, Jack was surrounded by enough colors for his brain to fully comprehend what he was seeing. When babies are born under Gris' rule, the parents don't get to see the child for a whole week due to experimentations done to the child to stop it from seeing the colors that we should see. 

Color has enveloped Jack entirely as he takes in his surroundings. The rebellion has ensured that every inch of their base be as colorful as possible, making the walls burst to life, the buildings blend in with the colorful walls, and the people wearing more colors then one person can handle. Mark watched as Jack gazed above him at the endless blue sky, dotted with clouds. 

After Mark had removed all his armor, leaving him in his regular clothes, he began to lose himself in thought. He had to admit, this was one of the best reactions he had gotten in a long ass time. But that wasn't what shocked him the most.

Mark studied the newly colored man closely. He was wearing a black collared shirt, light grey pants, and black shoes. His skin was pale, like Mark has expected, his hair was a chestnut brown. Jack was laughing from pure excitement, looking at his hands then back to the world around him. He whipped around to face Mark, stealing their breath instantly as they really examined one another.

Jack's eyes were like a clear blue river, nothing Mark had ever seen before. When Mark had first seen him, his eyes were a murky grey, lifeless and free of hope. Now when he saw Jack, he could see redemption behind those eyes, he could see the gears working in his head to take in every inch of the colors around him. He could see a fire flicker in those blue eyes, a small blue flame that would rise overtime and envelop the world around him in a new hope.

Mark never wanted it to end.

-Jack-

Colors, colors, colors. Colors as far as the eye could see. The colors seemed to move into him, welcoming him into a new existence, one with a spectrum unlike anything he had ever known before. It was beautiful, exciting, inventive. It was a secret kept from thousands of people for a full century, a century without ever seeing the magnificence around him. It was a whisper of the rebellion in his ear, calling him to spread this wherever he stepped, wherever the world would take him next.

Jack looked down at his hands to see a new, soft color take place on him, like it should have always been that way. He looked up again at the buildings and walls surrounding him and up at the open ceiling, up at the glorious sky with it's fascinating colors. He turned around to face Mark, his breath swiped out from him.

His eyes shimmered in the sunlight, his clothes reflected the new world around him like he had never been to Gris a day in his life, his skin was slightly dark then his own, Jack realized, and his hair was mostly black with a large portion colored in the middle. It wasn't like Jack hasn't seen that before, but now it seemed like he was swimming in a vast ocean of colors and it was beyond beautiful.

Jack never wanted it to end.

-Both-

He saw him in the best way possible, and he didn't want it to end. What was this feeling?

"Welcome to The Bucket, you two." Someone nearby said to them but they refused to break eye contact. "Let's hope this is the start of something new."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS THE START OF SOMETHING NEW, IT FEELS SO RIGHT TO BE HERE WITH YOU, WOOAAAHH. AND NOW, LOOKING IN YOUR EYES, I FEEL IN MY HEEEAAARRRTT THE START OF SOMETHING NEEEEEWWWWWW
> 
> Please kill me it's 1 AM


	6. Meeting the Rainbow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter of anything that I have ever posted. Don't get used to it. Also this is the first chapter that introduces the main OCs for this story so yeah. Enjoy.

-Jack-

After a two hour nap, Mark began to show Jack around The Bucket. Now that he had settled in somewhat, Jack could begin to look past the colors to see all the buildings and how big this place really was. They had an entire civilization in the works here, god only knows for how long. Brightly colored skyscrapers towered above him, though they never reaching the huge gaping hole in the ceiling. It was almost as if they were in a large volcano without the lava, thankfully. There were thousands of people bustling down streets, voices ringing out from all directions.

It was so different then what Jack was used to. He was used to this much commute, sure, but this was so much different. Everyone here was happy with where they were, they were bursting at the seams with joy and these people knew that they had a greater purpose. In Gris, everybody is forced to work or go to school, nobody had a choice in what they would do. It was a way to keep everyone in line but here the line was nowhere to be seen. People here could live and work and learn and thrive in whatever way they saw fit. 

This was the utopia that Gris could never achieve. It was beautiful.

"Hey, are you listening to me?" Mark asked, snapping his fingers to free Jack from his thoughts. 

"Probably not," Jack replied absentmindedly, "what were you saying?" 

Mark sighed and rolled his eyes, slightly irritated that he had to repeat himself. "I was saying that our official name is The Creators of the Colorful. We have been here since Gris was established, working behind the scenes. We have yet to have to relocate luckily."

Jack raised an eyebrow at that. How hard is it to miss a giant city in the middle of a mountain? 

"I can tell you're confused, yeah?" Mark asked, Jack nodding in reply, "I'll show you how." He beckoned Jack to follow him, as if he was doing anything else. If Jack had tried to go off on his own he would be lost in a mess of colors and roads.

Mark led him to a glass elevator at the edges of the city. Jack looked up towards the sky, seeing that this elevator reached to the very top. Seems risky for a rebellion to have an elevator leading to the one of the two ways they could get captured, although they haven't got caught yet. So, what's the catch, Jack wondered.

They got into the elevator, Mark hitting a button as the doors closed behind them. There was a soft rumble, startling Jack, but then they began to ascend.

"It's going to be a ways up, might as well start a conversation. Have any questions or thoughts?" Mark said awkwardly. He didn't seem like the type to give tours anyway, he must be out of his comfort zone. 

"Do..." Jack started, "Do all these colors have names?" He peered out the glass walls, out into the open. His innocence was shining through, probably blinding the people below him. There was so much about this new world that he had yet to learn, it intrigued him greatly.

Jack turned back around to see Mark stifling a laugh, covering his mouth as if he was going to explode. Rude, Jack thought.

"Don't give me that half laughing bullshit! I'm new here!" 

"What ever do you mean?"

"You know what, you ass!"

"I'm sorry, that question just sounded so cute!"

They froze, the awkwardness settling in quickly. Jack rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a blush slowly creeping up onto his face. Mark cleared his throat, staring down at the glass floor where the instructors below kept the others in they newly forming line in check. Mark slid over to Jack's side, peering out the glass and pointed at one of the many bright colors.

"Green."

"What?"

"That, right there, is green. The fourth color in the rainbow."

Jack paused to stare at this "green" Mark spoke of. It was the color of the treetops and the grass, it compelled Jack for a strange reason.

"Remember that wall from the beginning of this week?" Mark asked nonchalantly, this idea hit Jack like a truck. It had only been one fucking week since everything had happened?

In one week alone Jack had managed to lie to his nation multiple times, get attacked by the police and by rebels, commit acts of treason multiple times, and successfully run from the city that he held so dear with a person he barely knew. His head started to spin from it all but he snapped himself out of it, trying not to worry Mark.

The last thing Jack would want right now is for Mark to babysit his sorry ass.

"I guess so, it seems like forever ago, huh?" Jack finally replied.

"That was yellow, the third color in the rainbow." Mark kept pointing to different splotches on buildings and naming them all off the top of his head. Red, Orange, Violet, Indigo, Blue (Jack secretly got excited when Mark pointed out blue as he already learned it), Magenta, and what seemed like thousands of other variations of the same colors. The thing that kept messing with Jack's head was the use of the word "rainbow." He wasn't sure what it was and was too involved in his current speech it interrupt.

Luckily, the elevator interrupted for him as they both jumped at the ding from the elevator coming to a stop.

"Sorry, I kind of rambled there. At least we're here!" Mark hopped off the machine and beckoned Jack to follow him once again. The top of this mountain, Jack noticed, was covered with even more people. He honestly didn't know how that was possible, how people of so many different ages and sizes were up here without the fear of something going wrong.

What stressed Jack out even more were the small children that were leaning on the posts that kept everyone from falling to their demise. How are these five year olds so calm?!

Mark led him, without holding his hand to Jack's slight disappointment, to a more empty side of the mountain. "Look down there now and tell me what you see." Mark said. Jack peered over the edge timidly and gasped.

The top of every building, every inch of what was the colorful city he entered before looked like was now an exact replica of the white tree tops that he grew up with. It was made to look like one could reach out and grab a handful of pale leaves, crunching them between their fingers. There was no trace of the city from up top, it was completely covered with the colors that Jack has always known. This place was just filled to the brim with surprises. 

"How did...Who...God Damn." Jack stuttered, pushing his hair back with one hair in awe. 

"Pretty cool, huh? When The Bucket was first created, they quickly realized that they needed to hide our city from everything else, so they made it look like everything else." Mark recited facts like a proud mother would speak about their child. "We can't stay here for long though, we got some people to meet."

"Who may that be?" Jack asked, turning to face Mark. He was already halfway to the elevator when he paused for a moment, Jack could feel his grin from that far away.

"You're going to meet the rainbow."

__________

Jack questioned Mark the whole ride down, something that he found himself doing a lot lately. Apparently the "rainbow" he mentioned this time was not the one that he was talking about on the way up. This rainbow was a group of fighters, Mark had said. They all have their own special color weapons, like the one that he saw Mark with the last time he was in Gris. Each person has a different color that they work with the majority of missions.

"What's your color then?" Jack had asked, receiving a raised eyebrow from Mark.

"I have them all. I'm the spectrum of my rainbow." Mark said, as if Jack was supposed to know what that meant. Jack returned the raised eyebrow to Mark, making him realize that Jack was still new.

"A spectrum is the person that goes on the most missions and is basically the leader of their rainbow. Everybody has their part to play in the group though, don't hear me wrong. It's just that the spectrum keeps everybody in line and on task when on a mission." Mark explained. Jack nodded, understanding what he meant.

It's funny that a place without boundaries has so much structure, Jack thought.

They reached the ground, where Jack gladly didn't have to worry about kids taking a plunge into their immediate death. That's always a comforting thought, isn't it?

They walked for what felt like forever to Jack, winding down streets and crosswalks like nothing. They soon approached a large, red building with many people milling about. Banners with depictions of fighters with weapons of many types surrounded Jack on the sidewalks, reading "Are you going to fight for creativity?" and "Color this world anew with us!" It seemed corny to Jack but based on the amount of the people here, they must work to some degree.

"What is this place?" Jack asked, tugging on Mark's sleeve to get his attention like a child would do to their mother.

"This is our base of operations. It will be your base of operations if you choose to join us as well."

"Wait, I have a choice?" Jack was honestly surprised by this.

"Why wouldn't you? I'm not going to force you to do something you don't want to do, you know. I'm not evil."

"It just seems like coming here is mandatory for people here, like the military in Gris."

"Well, this isn't Gris. You can live how you want, don't let anyone hold you back." Mark said nonchalantly, as if this was something normal for Jack to hear. This was happening too fast, the feeling of dizziness reappeared to him, making him hold his head and wobble. He thumbed to the ground, holding his head in his hands, heart pounding in his chest. This was Jack's fourth anxiety attack in his life and it sucked major ass.

Why now? Why in front of all these new people? What a good first impression to make, you idiot, Jack's thoughts were creeping up on him.

Mark kept walking for a bit until he realized that he wasn't getting any responses from Jack, he turned around and rushed over to his side. He put his hand to Jack's forehead timidly, searching him for something, anything wrong.

"Jack, look at me, just breathe ok? Don't do anything but breathe." Mark said. His voice was low and husky, very commanding but sincere. Jack focused on his voice, telling him that he was ok and safe. Oh, how he wished that was his problem. Regardless of Mark attempting to help him, his mind worked against him. With the mixture of his thoughts, his fatigue regardless of being asleep for two hours, and his stress, he passed out.

_________

Jack awoke to two voices bickering at one another farther away from wherever he was. He felt a thousand times more comfortable now, which meant that he was no longer on the concrete. He opened his eyes and found himself on a dark brown couch with very fluffy white pillows. He propped himself on one elbow and took in the room around him. The walls were a light brown with one orange wall to his left, illustrations in frames were hung around the room in perfect formation.

He rose from his crease in the couch, his curiosity peaking. The ground was cold to the touch, the floorboards beneath him creaked and groaned like this building was years old. It seemed fairly new to Jack but what did he know? He slowly crept towards the source of the noise, his hands drifting across the walls of hallways. 

The bickering increased in volume as Jack found a room with a large wooden entryway. He could start to make out voices, one was Mark, another was a voice he had never heard.

"You were gone for a full day and a half, you shit stain! The least you could have done is turned on your communicator!" The new voice, presumably a girl, screamed. 

"I was doing what you wanted me to, wasn't I? I almost never turn on my communicator when I'm on missions, it's very loud!" Mark said. He sounded much more calm like he had dealt with this before. Jack glued himself to the outside of the entrance, anxious to approach Mark in the middle of some brawl.

Jack nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a throat clear behind him, causing him to stumble backwards into the open entryway. As if he hadn't had enough stress in one day, the person who had startled him was ten times more intimidating then the guards in Grimm Grey.

This man would toward over Jack even if he wasn't flat on his ass. Muscular, skin much darker then his own, a full head of red hair, soft brown eyes, and a slightly large nose, this man looked like he felt entirely guilty about unintentionally knocking Jack on his ass.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you," His voice was deep, very masculine. "Here, let me help you up!" He offered his hand to Jack, he was getting some serious deja vu right now. 

"I got it, thanks." Jack replied, pushing himself up for once. The man stepped back, giving Jack his room. Jack turned to look into the doorway, finding both Mark and the angry girl staring directly at him. Surprisingly, she was the first to react.

"That's, what, the forth time? You really are a bad babysitter, Mark." She said. Jack could see where Mark got his sarcasm from, just by being around her he wanted to say some witty remark. He wouldn't, though, considering that this girl could probably snap somebody in half.

Much shorter but obviously stronger then anybody in the room, this girl also had the longest hair he had even seem. It was a deep purple, different from her outfit which was a familiar black. She had deep blue eyes, fair skin, and a crooked smile. Jack could definitely learn to respect her or get beaten up for not.

"I'm not a babysitter, I'm...well I'm not sure what I am to him exactly but you get my point!" Mark exclaimed then turned to Jack. "I'm sorry about that, she's a total bitch." She only huffed in response. 

"Are you ok? You were asleep for a bit, you must have been tired, huh?" The other man approached Jack again, much more gentile this time. "I was put in charge of watching you, I only get up for a drink, next thing I know you had up and disappeared!" He laughed at that which turned into an awkward chuckle when he realized nobody was laughing with him. This guy sure looks intimidating but he seems like he wouldn't hurt a soul.

"Jack, this is Raymond and the loudmouth behind me is Penelope. The other introductions won't be as panicked, I promise." Mark said, earning another huff from Penelope. "They are the red and violet of the rainbow, you can meet the others in a bit."

Raymond waved at him awkwardly while Penelope gave him a small nod of approval. Jack just waved back, he didn't have a signature greeting or anything.

"You look like green to me." Penelope said simply, as if he knew exactly what she meant.

"I'm...what?"

"The color you suit best, where you fit in the rainbow. You look like green to me."

"Oh, heh, yeah." Jack cringed internally. He would rather be buried in a hole right about now but might as well get these introductions over with. 

"We still have the rest to meet! They're waiting in the common rooms, what are we waiting for!" Mark chirped, eager to get this moving along. Jack secretly thanked Mark for getting him out if this awkward situation. 

Mark led Jack into a large room where color was abundant everywhere one looked, the four people inside looked just as colorful as their surroundings. No surprise there. There were two people at some blinking rectangular machine, pressing buttons wildly. The first girl had dark skin, wearing an orange backwards facing cap matching her bright orange clothes, short brown hair peeking out from the cap. The other was much taller then the first, using the other girl's head as an armrest, with a similar kind of hair as the first girl except blonde. Jack honestly couldn't tell if this person was a girl or a boy, their clothes could pass for either gender, considering they were wearing a light purple dress and running shoes but looked more masculine.

There were two other people on a long circular couch that stretched across the room. These two were very far apart from one another, unlike the first two. One was huddled in a corner, more like huddled in a fort of pillows with a book in her face. All that Jack could really see that she had long black hair and skin similar to his own, possibly lighter. 

The other girl, however was doing something with her fingertips, humming to herself quietly. She had medium blonde hair that curled at the ends, green eyes, and exuded confidence from every inch of her. So it seemed, anyway.

Jack couldn't read all of their personalities considering that they were all occupied with their own activities. That's when Mark just had to break the silence with a loud "ahem," making everyone turn to face him. The cap girl's face lit up as her eyes met Jack's. She surprisingly has bright orange eyes to match everything else about her and her outfit. 

"Oh gosh, August! It's the new guy! I've never seen him awake before! Hello!" She bounded over to Jack's side, greeting him with a death grip on his right arm. For the look that she gave off, this girl sure was bouncy. She reminded him of a puppy.

The taller person walked up behind death grip girl and placed their arm on the first girl's head once again, they grunted in reply to the smaller one. They gave Jack a look that seemed to say, "Just go with it." 

"The one making you loose all blood flow in your arm is Angelica and mister grunt over here is August. Orange and indigo in the rainbow." Mark said. Jack wanted to question why a man was wearing dress but decided against it, remembering that Penelope was in the building.

The small one encased in the pillows freed herself to greet Jack. She was obviously the shortest of the group, her hair almost hit the floor as she swiftly moved towards Jack. He could barely hear her move as she took place in front of him and extended her hand to him. 

"Harley." She said so quietly that he almost didn't hear it. He shook her hand and she returned to her cocoon of comfort. 

The last girl didn't make any effort to get up to greet Jack, she waves at him in a strange way. He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering what her deal was.

"I don't mean to be rude but my nail polish isn't dry yet and I don't want to ruin what I've done." She said. "My name's Kelly, nice to meet you, Jack!"

"Those two are yellow and blue. That would be our entire rainbow, except for one." Mark said, hopefulness in his voice. He looked at Jack with pleading eyes, he knew what he wanted to say but something was keeping him from saying it out loud.

"He means you, dummy." Angelica said, finally releasing his arm from her grasp. He moved his arm to try to regain the feeling in it.

"Right, will you do it? Or at least consider it?" Mark asked.

"I don't know..." Jack said, being completely honest. This was still a lot to take in. 

"Just do it, what do you have to loose?" A voice behind him said. Jack turned around to see Penelope leaning on the door frame and Raymond close behind her. He surveyed the room around him, all eyes were on him, waiting for an answer.

He looked out a nearby window, looking out to the new city before him. The colors poured out from everywhere one would look. Something was calling him towards this, calling him towards his destiny. This is what he felt before, the very first day he saw Mark.

Jack sighed, moving towards the window to grip on the window sill for support. He was breathing deeply, shaking his head at himself. If he told any of his coworkers or friends back at Gris what he was about to do they would all call him the craziest man alive.

"I'll give it a week."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering that Jack actually didn't use the correct pronouns for some of these characters, I'll let you people see the correct pronouns for all the main peoples in Color Coded.
> 
> Raymond- Red (He/Him, Cis)  
> Angelica- Orange (She/Her, Cis)  
> Harley- Yellow (They/Them, Agender)  
> Jack- Green (He/Him, Cis)  
> Kelly- Blue (She/Her, MTF Trans)  
> August- Indigo (They/She/He, Gender Fluid)  
> Penelope- Violet (She/Her, Cis)  
> Mark- Spectrum (He/Him, Cis)
> 
> Hooray! If you have any questions about them or if i fucked something up then please say something.


	7. Gearing up and Getting down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A summery of this chapter with a hashtag: #LetJackSleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, it's been a while, huh? Sorry about that, I wanted to relax for the summer and I THOUGHT that would include writing on my part but i guess not. I have no excuses. Sorry if i screwed up some spelling or if it isn't the best chapter so far. Oh well. Enjoy!

-Jack-

It was going to take Jack a while for him to get the hang of things, but he had faith in himself. And by himself, Jack obviously meant Mark, he had faith in Mark. He was the only one around here that seemed to know what he was doing, so it seemed. Maybe because he was the leader of this small group? Yeah, probably that.

Jack looked at the pile of his old clothes sitting on the floor of his new room. He hasn't had this room for long but it's definitely better then his old room back in Gris considering that this one actually has a window and a decent bed, from the looks of it, he hasn't gotten to actually sleep on it yet like he was promised. Needless to say, this pissed him off. Sleep is precious, you know!

He looked in the mirror (something else he didn't have in his room back in Gris) at his new, surprisingly bland clothes. He had a pure white shirt with blue jeans and dark brown shoes. Maybe he would get to pick a different outfit in time or if he officially decided to join this rebellion. 

Joining the rebellion...it doesn't seem like a bad idea at the moment. So far he has been given a roof over his head, food to eat (Raymond had come by and dropped off some dinner but not before running into the door frame on his way out), and an opportunity for a job of some sorts? He wasn't really sure what he would be doing exactly but he assumed that it would be something dangerous. He did have all of those things before but for the first time in his life, he had a choice. He could choose his own path, write his own destiny, and that might just be with this rebellion.

Yet there was still a part of him that yearned to go home, that wanted and needed the structure that Gris provided for him. It may have been very sad and lonely there but it was simple, some people like simple. Was Jack one of those people? He griped the ends of his shirt, furrowing his eyebrows at the thought.

No, he wasn't.

He wasn't really sure what he was just yet but he wasn't about to let those people in Gris control him any longer. Whatever it was that he wanted to do then he would be the one to decide it, damn it! He slammed his fist down onto the bed and raised his head up triumphantly.

"What are you doing?" Questioned a tiny voice from outside the door, causing Jack to jump a bit. He thought he would be left alone after Raymond showed up a while back. Will this day never end?

"What are YOU doing?" Jack hesitantly asked back, slowly moving towards the door to see who was there. He opened the door to reveal that it was in fact Harley, who was still trying to hide behind the door regardless of it opening.

"I'm coming to bring you to the training hall. Nobody else would come get you." She said, staring down at the floor.

"Can I sleep first?"

"No, let's go." She grabbed him by the wrist and began pulling him through the halls. Good god, this girl could kill someone with this kind of grip. She wasn't a very fast walker, or she was and suddenly she was being slowed down by him. She doesn't seem like one to talk much either, which lead Jack to wonder if he should break the silence or to let it be. His mouth responded to that question before he knew what he was doing.

"You really have quite a tight grip for a girl." He said awkwardly, causing her to stop in her tracks. Her grip suddenly got very tighter as she turned around quickly, her hair slapping Jack across the face, her eyes were burning with rage.

"First, do not say that something is good 'for a girl.' It implies that girls are incapable of doing things that any other person could do, which is full of crap. Second, I know you're new here but I am NOT a girl. I am agender and my pronouns are they and them. Understand?" They threatened, squeezing his wrist harder with every word.

"Yep I totally got it, my mistake, so sorry, you are most definitely not a girl, my bad." He desperately tried he free his hand but they were determined and angry. Add calling Harley a girl to the list of things that he shouldn't do ever again. To save himself of doing or saying anything else idiotic, he decided not to say anything else until the both of them reached their destination.

Their destination turned out to be a giant warehouse across the street from the main building, which Jack assumed was where everyone lived. This must be where everyone trained, knowing that gave him no comfort whatsoever, considering that he had the athletic ability of a fucking chair. Not a rolling chair that could move, just a regular, boring chair, like himself. He knew that chairs aren't exactly the most beneficial during a war against an entire nation but he pushed that thought aside, because it was fucking stupid.

"I don't know what Mark wanted with you exactly." Harley said. They paused, making Jack think that there was more to say about that. When no other response came, he was slightly insulted. There must be something that he wanted with him, right? He didn't just pull him from his life for no reason, did he? He really needed to stop overthinking things.

Actually stepping into the training warehouse didn't help his overthinking, sadly. There were only four people in the room that he recognized, not counting Harley and himself. They released his wrist and started walking towards where Mark and Angelica were, Jack took this time to take in his surroundings.

The warehouse didn't look large from the outside but damn, this place was huge! He couldn't even begin to count how many people were training with strange and interesting weapons. There were people with large guns covered in paint, others in giant robot looking machines shooting at walls caked in dried and wet paint, some wielded swords and knifes that changed the color of the dummies that they were practicing on, and the few that were controlling drones that flew overhead while shooting out paint. Jack was in total awe, so much that he didn't notice Mark come up behind him.

"It's all pretty cool, huh?" Mark asked, standing a little too close to Jack, causing him to jump out of his skin.

"WHAT THE F-" Jack screeched, nearly landing on the floor again if it wasn't for Mark grabbing hold of his arm, the very same arm that was crushed under the mighty strength of Harley. Luckily, Mark didn't grab where it hurt most but it still caused him to wince in pain. "You have got to stop doing this to me, one of these times I'm going to have a fucking heart attack!" Jack said, trying to emotionally recover from that scare.

"I'm not going to stop until you are able to hear me coming, and to think that I was being obvious about it too. That's besides the point, though. Come on, I want to show you something." Mark said, beginning to grab his hand to lead the way but Jack quickly recoiled. He stared at Jack, a slight twinge of sadness crossing his face but leaving as quickly as it came, replaced with a small smile. "I'll just...let you follow me then." Mark muttered out, trying to shake that off.

In Jack's defense, he has been getting grabbed and lead around a lot lately, so he thought that he had a good reason for recoiling back. He couldn't help but question Was Mark offended by him moving away? Why would he get offended though? Did he want to hold his hand or something? No, that would be weird...would it? His thoughts were interrupted by him running into Mark. Good going, you dick, you recoil from his touch then you slam into the back of him, Jack was really starting to hate his thoughts.

"Even though you aren't officially a part of our team yet, you should pick out an awesome weapon that you would use on missions if you did, in fact, decide to join our team. Which you should do." Mark hinted at, not so subtly.

"Okay but where is Harley going?" Jack questioned, pointing at them exiting a back door, twirling something in their hand. 

"Oh, they're going out to the track, pay no mind to them. And before I forget, Harley uses they and them pronouns. Trust me, you don't want to see them when they get called the wrong pronouns." Mark advised.

"Yeah, I know. Learned that the hard way." Jack murmured. "So, what do we have here exactly?" He raised his voice, motioning to a stack of papers on a nearby table that Angelica was sorting through. She looked up from them to answer Jack's question.

"I'll tell you what we have right here!" She giggled. "These are the different blueprints that I have compiled in anticipation for this moment! It's been a long time since someone on our team needed a new weapon or any kind of new technology so I've been, um, collecting these for a while!" She slapped the top of the stack to emphasize her point, a point that was very obvious. He had never seen so many blue papers in his life, or ever for that matter.

"And we're going to look through all of these?" Jack asked, turning to Mark to give him a look that said, "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Mark only shrugged in response, giving a half hearted smile. "Well, then I guess we should get started." Jack sighed, passing on Mark's half hearted smile to Angelica. He leaned against the edge of the table as she began to sort through all of the papers, organizing them into different stacks depending on what they were, from what he could see.

"Alright, considering that Penelope is dead set on saying that your color is green, so I took that into account already. Now it's only organized by the type of weapon, so the question now is, which type of weapon really caught your eye, Jack?" She questioned. He looked around the room, surveying the plethora of different weaponry around him.

If someone had hold him a week ago that he would have to decide which weapon he would want to use against the nation that he once loved, he would have called them insane. But hey, here he is now! 

"I think it would be cool to have one of those drones flying around here, if that's possible." Jack said. He looked at Angelica for a response only to find that she was absolutely beaming with joy. She clapped her hands together and grabbed a small stack of blueprints and shoved them in his direction.

"These are all the drones that I've thought of creating before, at least the ones that I took the time to draw out, take a look through those and tell me which one suits your fancy, so to speak." Angelica laughed aloud as she began to stack up the other blueprints.

Flipping through them, nothing quite caught his eye, they were all too mechanical looking and cold. But then again, they were drones, they aren't exactly supposed to look super friendly. That is until he reached the bottom of the stack and found a drone that look kind of cute.

A robotic green eye with a little tail stared up at him from the paper, it was weirdly adorable. In the top left corner in neat handwriting, it read "Septic Eye." Unlike the other drones, this one didn't look as evil as the rest. He knew that a drone was supposed to look intimidating but it wasn't like him to pass up something cute. 

"Angelica, what about this one?" Jack showed her the blueprint and watched her eyes light up. She quickly set down the other stack of papers and grabbed the one he had, practically sticking her nose in it. She giggled as she surveyed his choice, making him wonder if he chose wrong. 

"Oh, the Septic Eye! I remember when I came up with this little guy!" Angelica said, staring off into space, most likely recalling that time. "Yeah, I hope that dude's eye healed at some point..." Jack turned to look at Mark but he only shrugged in response, just as confused as Jack was. "Just meet me in about a day or two and I can get this working for you, ok?" She asked, clutching the paper close to her chest so much that she was almost crushing it.

"Oh, yeah, that's great! Is that all I was needed for? Can I sleep now?" Jack huffed, realizing for the millionth time today that he was tired and wanted a longer nap then the two hour nap he had before.

"I mean," Mark started, stepping to Jack's side. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to join our group on a carefree outing but I guess if you're too tired then you wouldn't want to go..." He trailed off, looking away from Jack but quickly turning his head around slightly to see if he was interested.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Jack asked.

"Of course you have a choice. I just really want you to go. It will be fun, right Angelica? She'll tell you!" Mark encouraged, moving over to her side to nudge her arm. She barely responded, giving a small nod and a grunt as she was currently entranced with the blueprint. Mark rolled his eyes and motioned for Jack to follow him. Jack was just glad to not have someone pull him around for once, he was getting really sick of that.

"Well, maybe Angelica wasn't the best person to ask after you gave her a new project, but I think the others will want to come!" Mark said optimistically.

________

As it turned out, nobody else could go. Raymond was helping Angelica, Penelope, August, and Harley were all training for the rest of the night, and Kelly just didn't feel like going.

It was about midnight now, Jack had no idea how it took so long for them to ask everyone, and Mark was saying that this time at night was the perfect time to go to their "destination." Jack was the kind of person wh

"Can you please tell me where we're going, Mark?" Jack pleaded, getting kind of anxious. As if he hadn't been through enough today as it is.

"Ok, ok, fine. We're going to a club, to celebrate your arrival here! Normally the whole group would go but as you saw, that didn't turn our as planned..." Mark trailed off, almost walking into a light pole in the process. Luckily, Jack was there to make sure that no damage to the light pole or Mark's dignity was done.

"And what exactly are we going to do there?" Jack questioned.

"Dance, drink, relax, whatever we want."

"What the hell is dancing?"

"Oh don't worry about that, I'll teach you how." Mark turned around to wink at Jack, he could feel warmth rising up into his cheeks. He cleared his throat as if to say something but he couldn't think of a way to reply to that. How does one reply to that?

Jack's thoughts were interrupted as he heard yelling from down the street, something that he was used to from Gris but caught his attention regardless. There was a group of people screaming at people coming in and out of a building with bright lights shining down on the road. They weren't close enough yet to determine what they were saying but by the looks of it, they aren't nice people.

"Mark, what the hell is all that?" Jack asked.

"Those...are just some hateful people. Ignore them when we go in, alright?"

"Wait, that's where we're going?! Are you crazy?"

"Yes, I am, but this is fine, they won't touch us. They never have and they hopefully never will. The DJ will hopefully drown them out with music."

"I thought everyone here was nice to each other, why are they so mad?"

"They're mad because it's a gay bar." Mark sighed. "They're just some hateful people trying to ruin other people's night, don't pay attention to them."

"Are you..." Jack began, he has never had to ask anyone this question before. It was never a big deal in Gris, being gay wasn't a problem unless one of the two in the relationship was a traitor or dealing with colors and all that jazz. Nobody really cared as long as they followed their rules, he wondered why it was a problem here.

"Yes, I am gay, if that's what you're going to ask." Mark snapped but quickly shook it off, getting back into his cheerful mood as always. "Anyway, let's just have fun!"

"Okay then..." Jack was caught off guard by this whole situation and Mark's sudden mood swing. Maybe Mark was right earlier, he did need to relax for a while. The both of them, that is.

How could he relax when there were people yelling in his face as he was walking in, Jack wondered. Mark has obviously done this more then once, he had no idea how though. At some point, one would think that they would get sick of that. Maybe Mark was and he just didn't want to say it. They slipped through the doors with ease as younger people were being stopped by the guy at the door. Why this guy wasn't stopping the people screaming at everyone was beyond him.

Once again, relaxation seemed like a distant memory as he stepped into a world that was pitch black and bursting with colors at the same time. There were people moving in a giant mass in the center of the room, probably the dancing that Mark mentioned earlier, while others were sipping drinks in the corner, idly chatting while music (nothing like what they had in Gris though, this music contained life and happiness in it, which Jack enjoyed) was blaring.

"This sure is something." Jack shouted over the music.

"I know right? Cmon, we should dance! You don't seem like one to drink anyway." Mark softly grabbed Jack's hand and leading him towards the mass of people moving about. Honestly, Jack had no idea how to feel about all this but if Mark was excited about it, it might be fun.

One song was started winding down, causing some people to leave but that barely caused a dent in the amount of people that were still there. Mark turned around to face Jack, his eyes glittering with excitement.

"Just move with the music, most of the people here are drunk anyway so nobody will judge you. Follow my lead if you need to but you'll get the hang of it sooner or later." Mark shouted over the loud talking and the beginning of the next song. He let go of Jack's hand and began to dance, at least that's what Jack thought it was.

What if, What if we run away  
What if, What if we left today  
What if, We said goodbye to safe and sound.  
What if, What if we're hard to find  
What if, What if we lost our minds  
What if, We let them fall behind, and they're never found.

Jack watched as he moved with the flow of the music, closing his eyes and making this whole thing seem effortless. He looked so carefree and happy, despite everything that has happened today.

And when the lights start flashing like a photo booth  
And the stars exploding  
We'll be fireproof

Mark opened his eyes to look at Jack, just standing there in awe. He grabbed Jack's hand, encouraging him to move along with him. Mark smiled at him, Jack's heart was beating faster and faster by the second. How did he seem so cool yet sensitive at the same time? Jack found himself smiling back and loosening up, letting Mark move him the way that he was supposed to.

My youth, My youth is yours  
Trippin' on skies, sippin' waterfalls  
My youth, My youth is yours  
Run away now and forevermore

Mark spun Jack around, both of them giggling like children, loosing themselves together in the music. Jack spun back around to look at Mark and was breathless.

He was nearly glowing with happiness, the bright lights shining down on his face in a way that made his eyes glow. His smile shimmered as he turned to look at Jack as well, and with that he knew one thing was certain.

My youth, My youth is yours  
The truth so loud you can't ignore  
My youth, my youth, my youth  
My youth is yours

Jack was definitely not straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you just now realized that, Jack-a-boy. It's about damn time. The song is Youth by Troye Sivan, in case anyone is wondering.


	8. Sorry guys (update)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just something I would like to tell you guys to let you know why there haven't been as many updates.

Hey guys.

First of all, this is not a message saying that I'm permentally stopping this story. This is a message that is saying that I'll be taking a break from this story and writing on archive for a long while. This is because I'm a junior in high school now so I have a lot of school work, college stuff, learning to drive stuff, and other writing projects that have a higher priority then finishing this fic and because of other family "issues" that I would rather not get into. I hope that you all can understand what I'm saying here and know that I love everyone that supports this story and my other stories as well. Thank you all for the kudos and comments and bookmarks and whatever else, but for now I need to step back and address other things in my life before I start writing on here again. I'll most likely be back during winter break when things will have probably calmed down. Thanks!

Sincerely,  
Sam (Fearless_Fangirl), a rebel in the Creators of the Colorful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This update will be deleted when I post the actual chapter 8 so don't worry about that
> 
> EDIT !!!! There will be a new chapter in about a day or two, I promise. Sorry I left this for so long !!!!


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